


the queen's guard

by pageleaf



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Loyalty, Pre - King of Attolia, poor costis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/pseuds/pageleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Costia Ormentiedes,” the queen said, looking Costia up and down. “I’ve heard very good things about you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	the queen's guard

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this post](http://lady-feste-pendragon.tumblr.com/post/100787748840/genderswap-queens-thief) and the [resulting discussion](http://lady-feste-pendragon.tumblr.com/post/100794539780/kittyorleans-lady-feste-pendragon), which got me thinking about lady!costis to start with. this fic ultimately turned out very different in tone and content, but it still probably wouldn't exist without those two posts :D
> 
> thank you, as always, to plalligator and grim_lupine--for enabling and betaing <333

*

“Costia Ormentiedes,” the queen said, looking Costia up and down. “I’ve heard very good things about you.”

“My queen,” Costia said from the stone floor of her quarters, where she had fallen to her knees when the queen had first entered. “I’m—beyond honored.”

Attolia smiled thinly. “Hmm,” she said dispassionately. “Teleus mentioned your name to me a year ago, and I have been keeping a close eye on you since then. I’m impressed, by your skill and your loyalty. Leadership qualities, I think.”

Costia didn’t respond, throat stuck with a combination of terror and awe.

“Well.” Attolia tilted her head. “You may have heard that one of my former squad leaders was...lacking in said qualities. That he betrayed his country.” She inspected her nails, face impassive, but Costia shuddered, sensing the anger lurking just underneath the surface. “As a result, there is an empty spot in my Guard that must be filled.”

What?

Costia blinked. “Your Majesty?”

The queen looked down at her, eyes heavy-lidded. “How would you like a promotion, Costia?”

So Costia came to lead her own squad, to the consternation of those who believed women had no place in the Guard. And then, to their further chagrin, she found herself promoted again after six months, to Lieutenant.

*

Costia knocked on the queen’s door. “My queen, Phresine said you sent for me?”

“Come in.”

She entered, and took note of things in stages. The window was gaping, as if it had been thrown open. The queen’s bedcovers were tangled. Attolia herself was in her dressing gown, hair loose against her shoulders.

The velvet case that held the royal headband was open on her desk. Inside it was the headband—and a pair of matching ruby earrings.

Attolia was staring at them.

“My queen?” Costia asked, hesitant. The queen looked her way, eyes burning, but didn’t seem to hear her. To anyone else, she would have seemed as sedate as normal, but Costia had spent too long watching Attolia to be fooled. Her face was very flushed and her chin was held high in the way it often was when she was angry. Her breathing was slightly too deep, as if she were struggling to keep calm. Costia almost imagined she could see Attolia’s pulse fluttering at her throat.

She mentally shook herself. “My queen, what’s wrong?”

It was as if the queen finally registered Costia’s presence. Slowly, like puzzle pieces falling into place, her mask slid back on: her eyes became less wide, her mouth relaxed, her chin lowered, her shoulders dropped. “Ah, Costia,” she said, and her voice was smooth. “I woke up to see the window was open, and wanted to see if everything was as it should be. Would you check for me?”

She was lying about something, that much was obvious. Before she had regained control over her emotions, the queen hadn’t just looked angry—she had looked _scared_.

*

The Thief of Eddis was in the palace, only this time it was behind bars. Everyone was smiling, laughing, making jokes. Everyone except Costia.

After he had been captured, yesterday, Attolia had sent for Costia. “I’ll want you with me when they question him. Can you do it?”

Over the past few months, the queen had softened to Costia. When they were in private, she could be almost...affectionate; there was no such affection now. Her voice was hard, cold. Unsatisfied.

Costia pictured standing at the queen’s shoulder as the Thief was interrogated. The thought made her want to be sick.

“Of course, my queen,” Costia said. “Of course I can.”

*

“Please,” Eugenides whispered, “don’t hurt me anymore,” and Costia felt Attolia’s flinch as if it went through her own body.

The next night, Costia accompanied the queen again down to the Thief’s cell. She waited, leaning against the wall in the dim torchlight, as the queen stood, head tilted to the side like she was listening for something. Costia didn’t hear it.

The third night, Costia heard it: “ _Oxe Harbrea Sacrus Vax Dragga Onus Savonus Sophos At Ere_.” She didn’t recognize the words, but she recognized the tone they were said in. A prayer. Halting, choked, hopeless. Costia watched, horrified, as Attolia, still silent, pressed her trembling hand to her mouth and bent her head, hair falling around her face.

Costia reached out automatically, then froze as she realized what she was doing. Before she could pull her hand back, though, Attolia grabbed it. She gripped it tight enough that Costia swore she felt her bones creak.

The fourth night, the queen told Costia to stay behind.

*

They sent the Thief back to his country soon thereafter, yet still nothing was going right. The Medean ambassador had settled in, but he was the only one feeling comfortable. Every day, conditions between Attolia and Eddis worsened. Every day, tensions at court thickened. Every day, Nahuseresh grew more smug.

And every day, the queen looked a little wilder around the eyes.

She had Teleus reassign some of Costia’s duties, and weeks passed with only the barest minimum of contact between them. It hurt, but Costia did what she was told, because that was her job. But it hurt, and even beyond that, it worried her.

Costia kept worrying from afar, until one night the queen summoned her to her quarters. The first time in a month. “My queen?” Costia asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. “You sent for—”

The door opened swiftly, and Costia was pulled inside by a familiar grip on her hand.

“Your Majesty, what are you doing?”

Attolia had already moved away. “Shut the door,” she said, voice harsh.

Costia shut the door and barred it, causing the queen to glance up at her, surprised. “What’s going on, Your Majesty?”

But the queen was shaking her head even as Costia asked. “I can’t tell you,” she said, looking away. “But I am...”

Costia waited.

The queen looked back at her. “Afraid.”

 _Don’t be_ , Costia wanted to say. _You have nothing to be afraid of_. But she couldn’t be certain it was true.

Instead, she stepped forward and said, “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you,” because that _was_ true, and because it made Attolia’s eyes shine.

“Good,” Attolia said. “At least I have you.”

“Is that what you called me here for?” _To be reassured of my loyalty?_

The queen smiled, honest and painful. “No,” she said, closing the distance between them. “Not just for that.”

Costia knew, then, what was going to happen, but she still gasped when Attolia kissed her. The queen’s hands curved around Costia’s jaw and neck, and she kissed like she was trying to drown in it.

Only Costia was the one who felt like she was drowning.

As if she had heard her thoughts, Attolia pulled back. “Breathe, Costia,” she said, and tucked a curl behind Costia’s ear.

“Yes, my queen,” Costia replied.

After that night, there was another week of no communication from the queen. Costia brushed her thumb over a bruise on her collarbone and tried not to feel too disappointed.

But then the queen sent for her again, and the process repeated.

On the fifth time it happened (as the queen was pressing Costia back against pillows and red bedsheets) Costia finally gained the courage to initiate a kiss herself. As a reward, Attolia smiled against Costia’s skin and slid her hand down, down, down—

“Oh, _oh_.” Costia hid her face in Attolia’s shoulder. “My queen,” she said like a prayer.

“Irene,” the queen corrected. “Just here, just when we’re like this, call me Irene. Can you do that for me?”

Costia shook her head, overcome. But when she was on the verge of coming, the thing that fell unbidden from her mouth was, “Irene, oh Irene, please.”

Irene hissed through her teeth and ground down against Costia’s thigh. “Thank you,” she said, and Costia found herself blinking back tears.

The sixth time, Costia heard the queen—heard _Irene_ laugh for the first time. She thought, foolishly, that maybe things were improving.

The seventh time never happened.

Months later, when Irene left for Ephrata, she left Costia behind.

*

A messenger arrived at the palace, with orders to deliver her burden straight to Costia’s hands. It was from Teleus.

 _The queen has been kidnapped_ , it read.

*

By the time she arrived at Ephrata the next day, the queen had been rescued, the megaron was teeming with Medean soldiers, and the Thief was in custody. Again.

Costia handed off her horse and all but ran through the halls to the queen’s chambers. When she was almost there, she found Damianus, one of Teleus’s lieutenants, narrowly avoiding colliding with him. “The queen,” she gasped, grabbing him by the arm.

“Fine,” Damianus said. “She’s fine. The ambassador and his...forces rescued her.”

“Oh.” She released him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Damianus shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Thank you,” Costia said. “Where are you going?”

He scowled. “To guard the Thief, and ensure his safety. I’d rather kill him myself, but I must obey the queen’s orders.”

“What _happened_?” Costia asked, seeing the hatred on his face.

“He kidnapped her,” Damianus spat. “Tried to force her to marry him.”

Costia went cold. “I need to see her.”

Damianus turned in the direction of the queen’s quarters. “She’s bathing, but she will probably be finished soon.” His face darkened further. “One of Nahuseresh’s men is guarding her door, with orders to not let anyone ‘disturb her’.”

Costia stood taller. “He’ll let me in,” she said with certainty. She wasn’t sure what expression was on her face, but Damianus’s eyes widened.

“The captain is inside, too,” he said, “with some other men.” Costia breathed a sigh of relief. At least Irene wasn’t alone.

The Mede at the door tried to resist, but Costia put a hand on her sword and said in her calmest, most implacable voice, “I am the Queen’s Own Guard. You will let me in.” He did.

Teleus nodded at her when she entered the outer chamber. The rest of the lieutenants seemed surprised to see her, so perhaps Teleus’s message had been sent in secret. Costia didn’t really care, at this point.

“The queen,” she said, and Teleus looked at the door to the inner chamber.

Costia knocked.

“What.” The queen’s voice, impatient but unwavering. Costia felt a little tension bleed away.

“It’s me, Your Majesty.” The door opened.

She shut it behind her. Irene was sitting on a chair, having her damp hair combed by one of her attendants. “Costia,” she said, without turning her head. “When did you arrive?”

“Twenty minutes ago,” Costia said. “I came as quickly as I could.”

“Well,” Attolia said smoothly, “you can see that I’m all right. Was there anything else?”

Costia blinked at the abrupt dismissal. “I—”

“Not those,” the queen snapped, at the attendant putting her earrings on. They were the golden bees that Attolia almost always wore, especially at important moments. Costia would have thought this was one of those, but Attolia gestured to a velvet pouch by her bed instead.

The attendant retrieved the pouch and pulled out the earrings that lay within: ruby and gold, a perfect match for the queen’s headband.

Costia recognized them further as the earrings she had seen that night long ago, in the queen’s chambers in the capital. She remembered the fear in the queen’s eyes, and slowly, things began to fall into place.

“My queen,” she said in a low voice, and Irene’s eyes met hers.

Attolia held out a hand for the earrings. “I’ll put them on myself,” she said. “Leave us.”

No one protested, although Phresine gave Costia a meaningful look as she passed by.

The door shut behind them.

“If you have something to say, Lieutenant, then say it,” the queen said, voice hard.

Costia’s heart pounded in her throat. “Gods,” she breathed. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to marry him.”

The queen’s silence spoke volumes.

“You can’t!” Costia cried.

“ _Do not_ ,” Irene snarled, “tell me what I can and cannot do.”

Costia shook her head in disbelief. “You don’t have to do this. There has to be another way, there _must_ —”

“I know what I’m doing.” Irene turned her head away, putting the earrings on.

“The earrings,” Costia said. “He gave them to you.”

Irene’s jaw tightened.

“Don’t do this,” Costia pleaded. “Don’t tie yourself to this, this _barbarian_.”

Still, there was nothing but silence in reply.

Costia moved forward. “ _Irene—_.”

Attolia stood up, eyes flashing. “I am your sovereign, Lieutenant.” Her voice was cold and terrible, and Costia shuddered and took an involuntary step back. “You would do well to remember that.”

Costia was trembling. “I’m sorry. My queen.”

“Your Majesty,” the queen said, and Costia felt the correction like a blow to the stomach.

She swallowed, hard. “Your Majesty,” she repeated in a choked whisper.

The queen unclenched her fists and smoothed out her expression. “Now.” She sat back down in the chair. “Please send my attendants back in on your way out.”

*

Eddis’s forces arrived, and together with the Attolian army, they drove off the Mede. The queen was married. The Thief of Eddis became the King of Attolia.

A week later, Costia was demoted to centurion. She stood woodenly in front of Teleus when he gave her the orders, and saw the pity in his eyes. She thought, _This must be what heartbreak feels like_.

The closest Costia came to the queen for the next few months was in court, where she stood on the far wall. She watched Attolia as much as she could, knowing this was probably the only chance she’d get to do so again. She watched the new king sprawled in his throne and felt a sick mixture of jealousy and hatred swirl in her chest.

She learned to keep her feelings buried deep.

Until—

*

Costia stood above the King of Attolia, on his back in the dust, cursing and clutching at his face. Her knuckles stung.

 _Oh no_ , she thought, _what have I gotten myself into?_.

**Author's Note:**

> and we all know what happens next ;)


End file.
